


Chasing Shadows

by gaysakurapetals



Category: RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Both Blake and Yang are Bisexual, Canon Continuation, Canon Disabled Character, Eventual Romance, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Pent-up Feelings, Rating May Change, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6220072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaysakurapetals/pseuds/gaysakurapetals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> “And if you want a purpose again, this is where you can start.” </em>
</p>
<p>She tightened her hand into a fist, gripping the bed sheets.</p>
<p>She wanted one more than anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Shadows

Yang has had enough.

Each day was interminable; the sun would rise and Yang’s dry eyes would follow its course as the sky grew bright orange, purple, fade into blue, and then back into purple, and orange and finally a dark blackness. It was this time of the day that she disliked the most, because then she could see her reflection in the stillness, her broken silhouette, the deadness in her eyes.

She's had enough of everything, and yet, she couldn’t imagine what to do next.

“You need to be up and active,” her father would always plead, and normally Yang would be moved but she only felt numb underneath his gaze. “You can't stay like this. I've talked to several of Vale’s best doctors and engineers and we have blueprints of a robotic arm outlined for you. They'll come in soon and get your measurements. It's only a matter of time.” 

Yang nodded imperceptibly, silent as she chewed the minute amount of food in her mouth into mush. This was old news. Normally, she would be happy, hopeful, excited to train again. But she only dreaded having to get up. 

One day, Qrow decided to visit her as she was staring mindlessly at snowflakes floating onto beds of snow that seemed to stretch on for miles and miles, an empty basin of white overflowing her vision. 

“I'll be leaving today,” he announced, and Yang was mildly intrigued, but not enough to turn her head. “I won't be back for a while.” 

Qrow waited for a response. There was silence. He sighed and the sound of a chair screeching filled Yang’s ears as he sat down, ready to lecture, she presumed.

“Before I leave, however, I wanted to remind you about what I told you that time you were disqualified from the Vytal Festival,” he began, and Yang’s fingers twitched, her chin jerking slightly in his direction. She swallowed.

“I remember.” 

“I'll remind you anyway,” he replied, a slight grin on his lips. Yang caught sight of it and grimaced, not sure if she liked where this was going.

“Look, kid, I know you've got a lot on your plate. You spend your days brooding over all of the people who've left you.” 

Yang winced and looked away, anger roiling her belly. Uncle Qrow never saw any benefits to sugar-coating things and she’d always admire that in him; this time, she wished he did it this once. 

“Everything is a mess. Especially with your team. Everyone is on their own, doing their own thing. You've been having personal grudges hovering over that head of yours for so long now--and the only lead you've got for resolving one of them is the one that I gave you,” he shifted slightly, resting his arms on top of the back of the chair. “Things aren't looking up, kid. After you get your robotic arm fixed you'll just go back to school. You'll just get angrier, more miserable. There's nothing for you there. And the Yang I know can't sit around and do nothing for so long,” he added, his grin widening into a smile. Yang still didn't turn her head, but she saw the way his eyes softened and his brows furrowed, revealing his concern.

“I can't guarantee that if you find Raven, things will get better. In fact, they might get worse. You might feel angrier, more confused. But you will be one step closer to the truth. And if you want a purpose again,” his voice grew quieter, more sincere, and Yang felt a sharp pain grow in her chest, “this is where you can start.” 

Silence again. Her heart pounding,  Yang was sure her face didn't change, but Qrow’s smile widened, as if he saw something she didn't. 

“Remember. There’s a White Fang hideout in Haven. We know she's working with them, and that's where she's most likely to be.” Qrow got up and Yang felt his hand gently grasp her shoulder. She didn't move. 

“I know you've still got fire, kid. I'll see you around,” he grinned, and Yang blinked, her eyes hyper-focusing on a dark feather lying on the snow. The pressure of his hand lifted and his steps echoed in the hall and faded as he left. Yang’s heartbeat was deafening now. 

_ “And if you want a purpose again, this is where you can start.”  _

She tightened her hand into a fist, gripping the bed sheets.

She wanted one more than anything. 

\---- 

_ “I’ll make it my mission to destroy everything you love...starting with her.”  _

Blake’s eyes snapped open and her arm jerked instinctively towards her Gambol Shroud, her back jerking upwards off of the futon spread haphazardly underneath her over the cold ground. Her blanket fell over onto her knees and her heart beat wildly as she scanned the dimly lit room, fully alert, all of her drowsiness immediately evaporating from the influx of adrenaline. Realizing it was just a nightmare, she sighed heavily, and laid back onto the ground, letting the sound of crackling wood ease the tension in her body. 

Feeling weak, she slid her hand into the pocket of her vest and gingerly took out a photo, worn at the edges but still crisp and clean, taken at a recent time that seemed like years ago. 

She stared at the figures on it and watched as the flickering light of the furnace danced over their faces, remembered the gleam that was present in everyone's eyes and her fond annoyance of of her teammates, of the closeness of  _ her _ as she hassled her for a close embrace. She remembered warmth, exhilaration, and lighthearted laughter. 

Now, she was alone, and there was only silence. 

Blake bit her lip and sat up again, knowing that she would rather not return to that nightmare. She grabbed her travel bag and took out a pen and a scrap piece of paper, and on it, two written words:

_ Dear Yang _ , 

Feeling a wave of guilt overcome her, Blake swallowed, her grip on the pen tremulous as she struggled, for the millionth time, to write through her shame. 

_ I'm so, so sorry  _

She gritted her teeth at the horrible beginning, and scratched it out furiously. Sorry would never cut it. But that's what she was. How could she ever apologize and have it be enough? 

She decided honesty was her best bet, if she was ever going to have Yang read this, anyway. Blake hated to admit it, but these letters were probably mostly for herself, than for whom she wrote for.

_ I can't sleep. I can't stop thinking about you, about him and how I need to stop him so that he doesn't hurt you again. But then I think about how I must've hurt you and then the feeling worsens. You don't deserve a partner like me. I've always run away from the past and it finally caught up with me in the worst way possible. If only I had never let him come in the first place, if only I had stopped him instead of running away, if only I had been stronger so that I could've protected you  _

Blake crumpled over the letter, her eyes burning with tears. They spilled over and smudged the ink that outlined the last word, the liquid seeping through the page, dark and searing like blood. She let out a cry of pain and snatched the letter, crushing it in her palm and letting the frustration pour out through whatever strength she had left in her hands. 

Hands. At least she had both of them. 

Blake sobbed harder and tossed the letter, finally collapsing back onto her futon. She curled in on herself and let the tears grow cold on her face, her consciousness fading from the exhaustion of crying so much.

_ “Blake. Are you awake?” A soft whisper pierced through the quiet night and the soft snores from the two other Huntresses asleep in their bunk beds. Blake peeked over through the darkness and saw Yang turned in her direction.  _

_ “Yeah,” she whispered back.  _

“... _ Can’t exactly sleep. D’you wanna come over here and talk? I'd rather not whisper loudly at you from across the room.” Yang replied, her initial hesitance turning into a lighthearted offer, and Blake could see her joking grin, blinding in her night vision.  _

_ Blake smiled. “Okay,” and in swift, agile movements, slipped next to Yang on her bed. _

_ “Woah! Didn't even notice you for a second,” Yang murmured, the pitch of her voice rising up a notch in surprise. “Guess you really are a cat.” Blake bit the inside of her cheek and smacked Yang on the arm at the remark, earning an “Oof! Okay I'll lay off the cat jokes,” Yang grinned and Blake rolled her eyes.  _

_ “So. What's on your mind?”  _

_ “Huh?” Yang sounded as if she forgot why she asked Blake to come in the first place. Blake shifted slightly, looking at Yang in the eye even though she knew Yang couldn't exactly see her in the dark.  _

_ “You called me over here to talk, didn't you? Because you couldn't sleep?”  _

_ Yang paused. “Oh. Yeah,” she bit her lip and turned slightly towards Blake..  _

_ “Uhh… how're you and Sun?” _

_ “What?” Blake asked, surprised at her choice of conversation topics.  _

_ “Well. I wanna talk and that was the first thing I thought of,” Yang stated a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. “You two are dating now, aren't you?”  _

_ After a few moments, Blake responded. “We were.”  _

_ “Wait, what? Hold on a hot second, Blake! What happened? Why haven't you told any of us yet! Spill the beans!” Yang scooted closer, brows furrowed. Her eyes widened, as if remembering something important. “I-if you wanna, of course. Breakups are hard, and I totally get it if you don't--”  _

_ “Shh,” Blake sighed. Yang’s rambling immediately ceased. “It just...didn't work out. I like him, he's a dork, and he's a nice guy. I tried for a while and I thought I felt something, but…” Blake bit her lip. “It never really felt...enough. He was really understanding and now we’re just close friends. I don’t really know how else to explain it other than that it wasn't enough. I know that doesn't make much sense…”  _

_ Silence. “No, yeah, I get you.” Yang shifted slightly, catching Blake’s attention. “...All the people I've dated before...were just flings, really. Nothing serious. Not that you weren't serious. ...I did try to feel something with them, though....but it never really happened,” Yang murmured. Blake saw Yang look at her, her eyes bright with nervousness. _

_ “Have you ever...felt like it was enough with anyone before?”  _

_ Blake bit her lip, thinking of Adam. “...Yeah, kind of? For my mentor and partner, the one I told you about...we dated and my feelings were incredibly strong for him. We would die for each other. But, things were complicated between us, and nowadays, when I think about it, I have no idea if I knew the real him or if he knew the real me.”  _

_ Yang was silent, watchful.  _

_ “Would you go back to him?”  _

_ Blake looked at Yang, taken aback by her question. “...No, I wouldn't.”  _

_ After a few heartbeats, Yang nodded. Blake felt strong arms wrap around her body, pulling her close.  _

_ “Good,” she murmured against her neck, and Blake felt her heartbeat speed up. Blake’s heart ached as she realized what Yang was reassuring herself of. Slowly, Blake returned the embrace.  _

_ “I won't leave you. I left him for a reason,” she whispered, and Yang nodded, tightening her grip around her waist.  _

If only she had been able to keep such a promise. 

\--- 

“It seems you've adjusted fairly quickly during your rehabilitation,” the Vale engineer grunted as he stood up, sweating, wiping his brow. He patted Yang gently on her new arm. Yang started at what she’d been struggling to use properly the past few weeks, turning it around slowly and realizing that now, it came easily to her. “So it seems to be about finished. By now, it should feel as natural as possible.” 

“Thanks,” she stated quietly, ignoring her father’s beaming smile that she could feel all the way from where he was standing at the door.

After her father thanked him and showed him out the door, he returned and sat beside her. 

“...Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Yang looked up at him slowly, meeting his intense, searching gaze. She nodded. 

“Yes. I need to find her.” She gritted her teeth and dug her nails into the fabric of her blanket. Glancing down and seeing her anger and determination, Taeyang sighed. 

Yang’s anger fizzled out once he gently laid his hand on hers. 

“Just be careful. Don't get too ahead of yourself, and don't be too rash, and remember, if your arm needs adjustment or repairs, go straight to the closest robotic engineer you can find,” he advised, and Yang’s eyes widened, surprised he wasn't going to lecture her against her actions. 

Reading her emotions, Taeyang sighed again but kept his unrelenting gaze.

“This is the real world now, Yang. She is your mother, but she is a lot more cruel and a lot more callous than you think. Be careful.” 

Yang’s emotions twisted in her chest at his words but she nodded, knowing full well by now the the risks she was taking.

“...Okay. Thanks, Dad, for everything,” she murmured softly, her eyes beginning to sting as she thought of how long he's put up with her horrible attitude, her anger---

“Shh,” he leaned in and wrapped his arms around her, and Yang sighed, pulling him close and breathing in his familiar scent. She may not be seeing him for a while.

“It's alright. Stay alive. Now you better grab your things and get going,” he kissed her on the forehead and pulled away, smiling at her. “Stay alive.” 

He patted her on her new arm, his eyes lingering on her for a few more moments, and made his way out the door to his teaching job. Yang watched him go. Her gaze hardening, she slipped off the bed and barely noticing the weight of her arm as she stood.

Slipping on a thick black leather jacket and heavy snow boots, she looked up at the mirror. 

Her hair was still as wild as ever, but she there was something different in her eyes--eyes that she had gotten used to seeing as vacant and empty reflected in the window. This time, her eyes were lit with a small flame that burned with a discernible intensity--not as fiery as they were always before, but enough--so that she could see herself the hurt and the pain that now pushed her onto her feet. 

She clenched both her hands, the real and the mechanical, and cemented her resolve. Giving one last, lingering look at herself in the mirror, she grabbed her backpack and set off into the cold, throwing both legs over her motorcycle. She slipped on her helmet and tightly gripped the handle bars, her feet firmly placed onto the pedals. 

_ I'll find you this time, and I won't let you run away.  _

With that thought burning into her mind, she ignited the powerful engine and thrust herself forward, the zooming motorcycle propelling her headfirst into the unknown. 

**Author's Note:**

> My take on how the next season might go, inspired by many fan speculations. Also this is my way of coping while waiting for the next season! Hope you enjoyed and if I get enough feedback, I may continue and be compelled to update more consistently. Thanks!


End file.
